Your Possible Pasts
by chasecordelia
Summary: What if Willow had met Tara during High School?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: My first Buffy the Vampire Slayer fic, I think? It's set in Season 3, and yes, there will be some woz-iness in the beginning. Won't last long, though! If you have any opinions, please review.**

Willow played with the hem of her skirt, giving her mirror a sceptic look. It's a big night, and she couldn't seem to find the right outfit.

She hadn't met Oz over winter break. Not once. They'd have a few nervous phone calls, but with him being at the Alps (she still had a hard time picturing Oz, her laid-back Oz, skiing of all things) and the big black cloud named Xander still hovering over their heads, they hadn't managed find any time to meet up.

She pulled the sweater over head and turned to her wardrobe for the third time that night.

/

Willow ran, trying to disentangle herself from her long scarf while doing so. She was late. Not by much, but she didn't want Oz sitting there by himself. Not on their first date since...  
Her stomach immediately clenched with guilt. Even though he had forgiven her, _or she thought he had, hadn't he? but what if he hadn't, he might still, oh god-_

Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft yell of pain. And something solid. Which, she discovered when she opened her eyes in confusion, turned out to be the ground. And a girl. Willow gasped, crawling over on all fours to check. It had been a hell of a collision.

"Oh, god. I'm so sorry! I'm so stupid, here let me-" She reached down for the girl, brushing off the grit on her clothes and eyeing her with concerned eyes. It was a petty thing to do, but she had to do something. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry, I didn't.. I-I didn't see you. Or I did see you, but my mind didn't... Are you okay?"  
The girl blinked a few times, looking more confused than she did. Until a light smile spread over her features.

Jesus. She must've hitten her hard.

Twenty minutes later, Willow knew four things about the girl.

/

One, her name was Tara.

Two, Willow had either given her a concussion, or she was far too kind for her own good. She fully blamed the crash on herself.

Three, Tara was just about eighteen.

Four, she was new in Sunnydale, and would soon start in Sunnydale High School.

Five. Willow was terribly late to her date.


	2. Chapter 2

Oz wasn't at The Bronze when she arrived.

Oz wouldn't answer his phone, which meant he either wasn't home yet or he was ignoring her. She didn't like any of the alternatives.

Willow tip-toed back and forth, not keen on waking her mother up. Hands behind her back, she constantly glanced towards the phone, which seemed to stare back at her with its black… She shook her head, dramatically turning around to sink down on her bed.

Again, the girl – Tara, came to her mind. She seemed nice. For someone just knocked into, she was basically Sainte Marie the second.

She felt like giving her a warning, something in style with 'don't go to Sunnydale High, we have dead bodies', but she didn't have a number. A name, but that was it.

Besides, her starting at Sunnydale would give Willow a chance for a proper apology.

And something else, something bubbly and new jolted at the thought of her beginning at _her_ school.

The phone rang.

/

A week passed by without any further notice of Tara Maclay.

On Monday, she kept glancing over her shoulder to see if she'd missed her somehow.

On Tuesday, she checked with the principal.

On Wednesday, hopes up with brand new news from the principal, she kept slowing down to double-check some classrooms.

On Thursday, she began to forget all about it.

/

Willow slid a thumb over the back of Oz's hand, listening to Buffy's latest slay.

But even Buffy herself could be that entuastisch about it. Not with Faith running aloop with the Mayor. Not with Xander and Willow pretending everything was just 'dandy', with Cordelia throwing them meaner and meaner punches every time.

She squeezed Oz's hand, which earned her a little smile. Buffy continued her story with a worn, but trying, expression. Until the bell interrupted her. She sighed excessively, shooting the gang a slight smirk.  
"Sorry to ruin the end guys, But I kill the evil, demon-y thing. Time for other…." Xander raised an eyebrow. "Evil things."

Willow grinned. "If you by evil you mean physics, yep. Did you do the homework?"

/

Willow re-read the text for the fourh time, with as much luck her previous attempts. The only thing the book was giving her was a headache. And maybe, if this was keeping up, some well-deserved sleep. She pushed some hair out of her face, scrunching up her nose in confusion.

But her soon-to-be sleep was prevented by the creak of a door. A soft, stuttering voice she knew she remembered.

Willow looked up. _Tara_.

Something inside of her sparked, made her look down with a blush. That certain something was happy Oz wasn't here.

She quickly decided she didn't like the feeling.

Daring to peek up again, she caught sight of her. And unluckily, their teacher's death glare as well(if she turned out to be evil, Willow wouldn't really be that surprised).

"Maclay?"

"Y-yes. T-Tara. Maclay, Tara. Tara M-"

Their teacher interrupted her. "Yes, got it. Welcome to Sunnydale High, Tara. You can sit…" Her eyes raked over the students, making most of them move their chairs closer, either to whisper or highlight that _yes, this seat is taken._

Willow felt a pang of sympathy.

"Next to Rosenberg. Good luck."

The sympathy quickly grew into a giant rock. A giant rock with butterflies on top, pushing at her lungs.

She pulled out her chair, trying her best to look inviting. Apparently, it worked. Tara smiled at her, raising her hand in an awkward hand motion she thought was supposed to symbolize a hi. She recognized her, no doubt (hopefully?).

Later, Willow left the lecture happier and more confused then she'd been in a long while.


End file.
